Of a tethered tongue

Jealousy is an empty room
Where nesting ire resurrects
You reel in suspicion
To counter submission
Where you lace gloom to dismay
In fixed disarray
 
Jealousy is an unopened hand
In a cruel reprimand
The rife of violence  
In this molten silence
 
Jealousy is the grip of a scold
Of a tethered tongue
The quip of the bold
Ill measuring one
 
Jealousy is a mislaid contusion
On a wearer’s heart
The stance of the shaken
Where souls rip apart
 
Jealousy is the prick of a knife
inching into the folds
The sting of the blade
That’s winsomely shoaled
 
The vest of the wicked
That’s risen in plumes
The contextual mire
In the most rigid of tomb